


Quirks are Incompetent

by Avalonn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, War, tourettes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:56:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avalonn/pseuds/Avalonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is king, Merlin is his court sorcerer and husband. The druids have formed peace and magic flows freely throughout Camelot. But when another group of druids is found, war threatens, and Merlin is reported missing, all seems lost. But what happens when two reunite, yet one is left helpless, and maybe even...a threat to the good of Camelot itself?</p><p>Signs of rape, violence, tourettes syndrome, and major character death</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

After King Uther’s tragic death, and Arthur’s coronation, it hadn’t taken long for the rightful heir to approach certain past observations he had made while serving his lower-authorative role as Prince of Camelot. Solving food shortages for the lower towns, developing unexplainable yet perfectly precise military plans, and lowering the standards of the execution process were only minor changes, at least in the mind of the crowned himself. A more challenging matter had taken far longer to address, one in which Arthur had to assure himself by keeping an eagle’s eye out on his target. After many stake outs and behind-the-door listenings, Arthur had finally gathered enough proof and courage to corner his mind’s burden and point out what was now extremely obvious.

With confused eyes staring upwards, and an all too calm king looming above him, the servant man had every right to ask why he had been called to the chambers of a royal when it was in fact his day off. After seeing the big eyes that had stared cautiously up at him, Arthur had decided to lower himself into the chair beside his servant, watching him the entire time with a curious yet mischievous expression.

_“Yes?” Merlin asked with a slight smirk on his face, disbelief flooding over him at Arthur’s action. The king opened his mouth once, then shut it all too quickly. He looked away, nervousness shuttering his body._

_“What is it?” Merlin’s tone went from alluring to worry, his smile soon dispersed at the hesitant pause coming from his . . .friend. He started to move his hand towards the other, but pulled back in uncertainty._

_The king sighed and fidgeted nervously in his seat. “Merlin, you’d tell me if anything was the matter, right?” He turned his head only an inch, eyeing his man servant from the corner of his pupil._

_“Of course.” He answered quickly. No need to even ask._

_“And-“ A pause, “if you had any secrets?”_

_No answer. Arthur turned his head back around fully to stare at him. The younger fidgeted nervously. He broke the gaze between them to look out the window behind Arthur._

_“I don’t know what you mean, sire-“_

_“You’re a sorcerer.”_

Talking had been the only exercise Arthur had gotten that day. Merlin, at first, protesting and trying to leave with promises to bring back a potion for Arthur’s drunkenness, then assurance from the oldest that he hadn’t, nor had he ever, visited The Rising Sun. After much arm pulling, calm talking, and assured kisses, everything had settled by nightfall, with the exception of a dazed Merlin trying to calm his breath at the thought of someone knowing his secret.

_“It’s alright.” Arthur whispered, pulling Merlin closer to his chest. “You’re alright.”_

_Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur’s back and cradled his head against the firm body in front of him. His eyes closed as he tried to calm his breathing, Arthur rubbing circles in his back to assist._

_“I was-“ He stuttered, “It’s just. . .I never thought. . .”_

_He broke down then, sobbing into the warmth of the red tunic he often found himself in, holding onto Arthur as if his life depended on it. And it might have, if he thought what they’d been through, what they have right now, had all been a lie. But when Arthur brought soft kisses to his forehead and started whispering sweet nothings into his ear, he knew he was safe. As long as he felt Arthur with him, he wouldn’t lose._

Arthur still remembered the day feelings from either of them had first shown, and remembered even more fondly of their first kiss. Under the stairs of the dungeon; not the most romantic, but in light of everything, it had been the most magical feeling in the world. After, that they had been outlaws of the kingdom, or at least that’s how they had played it.

 Still being quite young, Merlin only moving to Camelot a year before, it had been hard to hide their relationship from Arthur’s father. Stolen kisses and whispers in the night had been their only way of actual contact on another note than friendship. On some occasions, Arthur would catch Merlin watching him with ardent eyes and longing blushes from the far field as he practiced with the other knights. At times, in the halls while passing by each other, their hands would brush, and no one would take notice of one of them taking the other and dragging him into a dark corner to reactivate the hidden feelings they had held in all day. And when the timing was right, on a good day, they would steal away into the darkness of the forest and take a stroll that lasted until the sun had peeked over the hills in the distance.

Those little things had been the highlight of Arthur’s days, each and every day, especially when he got the rare treat of getting Merlin to help him with a bath, sometimes pulling him in to end up throwing bubbles at each other. And when his father had died, though grief-stricken and heart-broke, and after much comforting from Merlin, who helped him through it all, Arthur had silently thanked God for his life’s only desire. It only took a few weeks to become public about their relationship. Of course, Gwen and several knights had already known, and weren’t surprised when both men shared kisses in the hallways, openly now, and caressed each other while dining.

Yes, a lot had happened since Merlin’s arrival years ago, and much was still changing in the walls, and outside the walls, of Camelot. Both Merlin’s magic and love for his partner were constantly escalating, each new year promising more opportunities and experiences. The title of Court Sorcerer has been one of Merlin’s happiest moments in life; Arthur remembered his precise reaction. Another question that Arthur had asked had been even more exuberating; another reaction that had left both speechless yet close in each other’s arms.

_“What?”_

_“I said-“_

_“Yes.”_

_“Yes?”_

_“Yes!”_

~*~

                Due to the new king and obvious retributions of magic, it hadn’t taken long for the druids to take notice and come before the king in awe. On that particular day, when the great hall was swarmed with nobles, peasants, servants, and druids alike, Arthur had felt a reassurance wash over him. Merlin had been precise on the words he was to speak to them, especially to the elders of the druids. Days of practice between the two of them had been tiresome and tedious, but worth it when the day had finally arrived to preach them. The ceremony of welcoming the once-outlaws had taken only a few short minutes, but triggered a rejoicing up rise that led to a banquet set out especially for the new residents of Camelot.

                Days later, all who wanted to move into the walls of Camelot and residing villages to make a permanent, protected home did so. At that point, with Merlin close by his side, and his knights standing right behind him, all had seemed precise with the world.

~*~

                Word had fallen throughout lands known and unknown of Arthur’s noble actions. Kings, nobles, peasants, and other magic users came from every place to meet the brave and honorable King Arthur. There wasn’t a day that passed that a new person or group of people hadn’t walked up the steps of the castle to request a gathering with him. Though tiresome as it was, he brought a smile to each new person who walked through those doors. And with much hand-shaking and thank-you’s, Arthur dismissed each of them with a grateful smile and a promise of safe-keeping till they reached his own land’s borders.

                Of course Merlin had been there every step of the way. Each time someone approached the pair of them, Merlin was the one to offer his hand first, with a genuine, crooked smile and a hearty laugh when needed. When the need to be serious came, he was the first to straighten his lips and nod curtly. The words he spoke were often, if not all of the time, wise and understanding. Arthur didn’t know if he had always known the things he knew, but he was grateful for it none the less. Especially when someone mentioned something about magic and Merlin always took a step forward to cover the loss of words Arthur always had. But when all seriousness was over, and Merlin was wandering in the villages, and if a child were present, he would tease them a bit, and when they asked the usual question, he would alight his eyes and present some form of magic. The children were always gathered around him when he was seen in the streets. Merlin was liked by everyone.

                He had been, and still was, performing his role of nobility as such should. He was always present in meetings with something intellectual to say, his voice was straight when he spoke to a crowd of people, and his tone was always set for the right occurrence, whether it be formal or informal. Even his attire had changed; shirts like Arthur’s were placed in his closet, along with tall black boots, several different belts, long, dark, billowing cloaks, sufficient pants, and a crest to seal his cloaks together. Arthur quite liked the way he looked; “sexy, mysterious man” he would sometimes call him. But a change like that had taken Merlin a while to get used to, but as time passed, he could rarely recall wearing baggy clothes and a neckerchief that matched.

                Merlin was indeed a proper man to the public, with combed hair, a pomptorous smile, and sleek clothing. But when away from the crowds and the nobles, he was nothing more than Merlin: his wacky, uncombed-hair, cheeky-smiling self.

                _Merlin’s eyes flash a brilliant gold and Arthur’s plump chicken leg flew from his hand. A hoarse exclamation of “Hey!” followed by a more threatening tone of “Merlin!” sent an outburst of muffled laughter throughout the room. Arthur shoved his chair back and stood abruptly, reaching for the flying piece of meat. Several of the knights joined in too, yelling instructions at one another, save for Lancelot, who leaned over towards Merlin with a gleeful expression._

_“In the palm of your hands,” he whispered, then leaned back in his chair and snorted._

_Merlin beamed at the knight’s reference of yesterday’s talk they had had with Gwaine. The latter had bluntly stated that Merlin could “make Arthur yelp with delight or crawl on his knees, whichever he preferred at the time”, more or less in a lack of better terms. Lancelot had smacked the other over the head, but didn’t try to hide his obvious smirk._

_“Merlin, for God’s sake!”_

_Merlin raised his eyebrows at the scene before him. Gwaine was standing on the table now, hopping up and down with his arms waving in the air. Leon and Elyan had drawn their swords, and were both swatting at the chicken leg that danced teasingly above them. Percy still sat, but was howling with laughter along with Lancelot. Merlin swept his gaze over the entire room, searching for the voice’s owner. When he didn’t see him his eyes met Lancelot’s, who looked away all too quickly._

_“Hey, where’s---agh!”_

_A hand took Merlin’s shoulder from behind and threw him out of his chair and onto the floor. Arthur’s face appeared above him as he struggled to sit up, scowling yet smiling at the same time. Behind him the sound of a soft plunk hit the floor, and several whoops filled the room. Merlin shifted himself over so he could see the knights grab the piece of meat in triumph. Gwaine took it from Elyan and slammed it onto the table with a rejoiceful laugh._

_“Next time warlock.” Arthur said above him. He offered a hand to Merlin, who took it without a second thought and pulled the king to his knees. Just as Arthur was about to protest, Merlin brought his lips to Arthur’s, several coos and awes resonating behind them._

                While clothing-changes and speeches that left him breathless were the some of the biggest new factors of his life, one thing about being Court Sorcerer had taken Merlin a time to accept. When Arthur had first suggested that he be “mail-carrier” between Camelot and other kingdoms with magic, Merlin had rejected the proposal with, “You know I don’t travel without you.”

                That statement had at once changed when word of another druid camp was spotted miles away from their own land. When Merlin had heard from Arthur, his body had gone stiff and his eyes widened.

                _“…a completely different group.” Arthur continued when he got no vocal response from the other. “As if they appeared from nowhere.”_

_He watched as Merlin fidgeted in his seat across the table. His hand was placed on the wooden surface, formed into a fist, and the other held a fork half-way to his mouth. He made eye contact with Arthur and slowly laid the utensil on its plate._

_“How far away?” He asked dryly._

_Arthur eyed him curiously and answered, “About ten leagues; not too far, but a good few days travel.” He waited for Merlin to respond, but when he didn’t, he added, “Why?”_

_“They’re too close.” Merlin said coldly. Arthur leaned forward with a questioning look, wondering what was upsetting his partner so much._

_“I don’t follow.” Arthur admitted. “They’re druids. We just invite them here and hope they accept our plea.” His mind once again wandered idly to the time of his father’s rule, and shuttered at the outcomes he had to deal with to this day._

_“It’s not that easy.”_

_“How so?”_

_Merlin sighed and threw his hands in his lap. His eyes wandered for a moment as he thought of what to say. They finally came back to Arthur. “I read about these druids, these “second” druids as some call them, from the books I read in Gaius’ chambers. They’re a completely different group; so far different that they practice different types of magic than most. They’re practices are sometimes considered evil, even vulgar at times. They’re nothing to mess with.”_

_Arthur stared blankly at him, at Merlin, whose knowledge knew no bounds, for a moment before asking, “Vulgar?”_

_Merlin nodded his head but didn’t give a further explanation. He shifted uncomfortably._

_“So we leave them alone.” Arthur said, pushing his plate away with a now upset stomach. “We leave them be as they were, and they won’t bother us.”_

_Merlin thought of that for a moment. Then he asked, “How did we find out about them?”_

_“Through Sir Barnard, I believe. He was coming back from a relative’s visit, and being as clumsy as he is, got lost along the way. He happened upon them, they welcomed him to eat, and they sent him on his way the next day.” He finished, but then added with a skeptical tone, “They don’t seem as cruel as you place them to be.”_

_Merlin did the same, pushing the plate away from him. Just as he was about to speak a knock came on the door. Arthur called for them to enter. A young servant boy awkwardly walked up to the table and asked if they were done, eyeing the excess amount of food questioningly. Arthur nodded and waved him away. Once the door was shut again Merlin leaned back, closed his eyes, and sighed._

_“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, leaning forward, ready to rise if needed._

_Merlin made a signal with his hand to be quiet. His eyes were moving beneath his lids, swerving as if reading a book. Arthur knew better than to disturb him when he was doing this; he was thinking, remembering, travelling back into the past._

_Another five minutes passed before Merlin joulted in his seat, nearly falling into the floor if he hadn’t caught the table’s edge. Arthur bounded from his seat to Merlin’s side, falling to his knees and grasping Merlin’s shaking hands. The latter was breathing heavily from his journey, as he most often did. The only difference was the look on his face: eyebrows scrunched together, a frown curving his lips._

_“Merlin, look at me.” Arthur squeezed his hands. “Merlin…”_

_“Oh god, Arthur.” Merlin let out as he looked down at Arthur with wide eyes. “Those druids, those people, they’re challengers of war.”_

_Arthur’s hands went limp in Merlin’s; his face paled._

_“What-How do you know...they’ve…challenged us?” He asked, stuttering on his words._

_“Barnard, he entered their camp. He shouldn’t of and…he…didn’t know, but….” Merlin said, chest rising too fast along with his beating heart. He continued rambling incoherently._

_“Merlin, Merlin, calm down.” Arthur reaffirmed his grip on his hands, trying his best not to over panic like Merlin was. He rubbed his thumb up and down the other’s hand. “Tell me, what have they done? What have we done?”_

_“We’re dead-Arthur—“_

_“Merlin!”_

_Arthur’s shout caused Merlin to jump, then slowly loosen his grip on his hands. He blinked several times with a hurt face, but Arthur ignored it._

_“You need to tell me what’s happened.” He said calmly, though the panic in his voice was still evident._

_Merlin pulled his hands into his lap._

_“They’re coming, Arthur. We’re going into war.”_

_Arthur closed his eyes and nodded his head, already having grasped that concept. He nudged Merlin to continue, to explain._

_“They...don’t like other forms of unity. They believe they’re the only way of living, the only kind of people and race. They don’t like the idea of other kingdoms. And when-“ Merlin paused, taking a breath._

_“Yes?”_

_“Barnard went into their camp, and they knew there was another kingdom, who they think is against them, because they think any kingdom they find out about is set out to destroy them, they made their decision. They’re going to start a war with us, and they won’t give up until they prevail.”_

_Arthur sat back on his heels, digesting what he just heard. Merlin scooted himself out of his chair and onto the floor beside his king. Their hands were still intertwined._

_“When?”_

_Merlin swallowed a lump in his throat._

_“When Barnard is dead.”_

_“How-“_

_“They fed him poison, Arthur. It’s what they do. It’s their sign, their warning I guess. In a month I suppose, a bit after maybe. But soon.”_

                That was a week and a half ago, the day they had talked about the other druids. After, they had argued with each other on what to do: Arthur’s plans seeming more practical and precise, while Merlin’s were more bravos and out there. But when he thought back to the conversation, Merlin’s thoughts had been the more practical, in all sense, yet more dangerous. And damn Merlin for that. Damn it all.

                His bright idea, as Arthur would put in a sarcastic tone, was nothing simple. Merlin, “being the court sorcerer and all” in the ex-manservant’s quotes, would take off the day after to the camp, nearly ten leagues away, to compromise with the druids. He had convinced Arthur to make up a treaty to offer them, with rights and guarantees on both parties, in order to bypass war and devastation. With help from Guinevere and Gaius, they had gathered enough gifts to present them with, in humbleness and selflessness on part of Camelot. After much arguing with Arthur once again that night, Arthur had finally agreed to Merlin going.

                _“But you’re taking a dozen men with you.” Arthur shot at Merlin, who snickered up at him from where he lay dozily atop his chest. “Sir Leon will be one of them.”_

_Merlin shook his head. “They can’t. They won’t let any more than one pass their gates.”_

_“No one can enter their gates. You said so yourself. They’ll poison you.” Arthur said gaspingly, grasping Merlin’s arm._

_“I’m an exception.” Merlin smirked, looking up into Arthur’s eyes. “I’m Emrys, remember?”_

_“I don’t care. You’re taking my men.” Arthur lifted his arm away from Merlin, crossing them on his chest with a child-like pout. He looked absolutely adorable._

_“They’ll be slaughtered.”_

_“You’ll be slaughtered if they don’t come with you.” Arthur said with more concern. “I don’t want you hurt.”_

_“I won’t, Arthur.” Merlin said as he rolled his head over. He planted a kiss on Arthur’s bare stomach. Again he repeated: “I’m Emrys, remember?”_

                Arthur did remember, but it hurt so much to admit himself the truth. He had thought of that fact for months, years, each day and every hour. Merlin was Emrys, the most powerful warlock in all of history. Nothing could change that, not even his own faithful partner. That lone fact wasn’t what bothered him though; it was the responsibilities and prices that had to be paid along with the role. Every day Merlin was at the risk of being murdered just because of his title. He always had to be the one to deal with the evil sorcerers, with the “bad guys”. His own name could end his life in a matter of seconds, without a second thought or remorse. Even the title of “King” couldn’t compare to that of Emrys.

                And that’s what set Arthur’s disagreement. How could he let Merlin head off into a stranger’s land, with no protection from his own men, to people who are intent of killing anyone who pisses them off? It was a death trap set out for only the risk takers; and of course Merlin fell right under that category. 

                _“It’s a trap.”_

_“No, Lancelot, it’s not. They don’t even know I’m coming.”_

_Merlin was peering into his bags, double checking the supplies and gifts. Daisy was restless and sidestepping constantly, making him have to use the ancient language to settle her down. She finally gave one last whinny before bowing her head in patience. Lancelot on the other hand-_

_“I’m coming with you!” He nearly yelled. He was right behind Merlin, pacing and scratching himself out of nervousness. Merlin had told Arthur to keep it a secret, which meant the whole castle knew._

_“You’re not-“ Merlin said, “and neither are you, Gwaine.” He pointed a finger at a bale of hay, where jet, black hair could be seen from the top. Slowly a man pushed himself up onto his feet, several sacks hanging from his shoulders._

_“Dammit, how’d you know?”_

_Merlin chuckled._

_“The hair was a bit of a giveaway.”_

_Gwaine cursed again and swat his hand to his head, trying to pat down the un-tamed mess. Lancelot stepped into Merlin’s view._

_“You’ll get yourself killed if I don’t come with you.” His hand was on Merlin’s arm, gripping it with ferocity._

_“And me.” Gwaine said, appearing beside Lancelot with a grim expression now. His hair was still sticking up in all which ways, lacking the lushish, long durance it once had years ago. Actually, hadn’t Merlin been the one to convince him to cut it?_

_“I’m sorry, and I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but I’ve got magic, and you don’t.” Merlin said, pulling his arm away from his friend. “Plus, I can’t look after you two if something happens.”_

_“If what happens?”_

_“Hey!”_

_Both outbursts made him jump, having to duck from Gwaine’s playful hit and back away from Lancelot’s worried glare._

_“Exactly, Merlin. What if something did happen? Who’s going to back you up?” Lancelot questioned like a mother._

_“Yeah, who’s going to save your arse?” Gwaine smiled, but his eyes lacked the playfulness he usually had, replaced by worry for his friend._

_“I can handle it, I promise.” Merlin assured. He brushed off Gwaine’s hand, which had tried to fix his seal, to straighten it._

_“I swear, you two act as if you’re my mothers.” He quickly mounted Daisy before Gwaine could slap him on the head. The swiftfulness of getting on still surprised him, as he still remembered the clambering it took just to get his left foot in the stirrup._

_“We only worry.” Lancelot chided. Gwaine nodded in agreement, trying to get on the horse also. Lancelot, luckily, took him by the arm and threw him to the ground._

_“Ouch.” Gwaine muttered, rubbing his head._

_“I’ll see you in a week, Merlin, alright?” Lancelot put a hand on Merlin’s leg and patted it._

_“A week.” Merlin nodded. He turned his head around to peer up at the tallest window of the castle. A blurry face was barely visible, but he could see the wave the figured made, and Merlin returned the gesture. He kicked his horse and galloped out of the castle and into the woods._

                And now, a week and a half later, Arthur still cursed himself for letting Merlin go. Because now, eleven days after, he still hadn’t returned.

~*~ __


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur isn’t usually the one to worry; he’d always left that bit up to Merlin. For example: when a few druids from the original group refused to agree to their treaty, Arthur hadn’t known what to do at first. He hadn’t been scared, that’s for sure, but just stuck on decisions. Merlin, on the other hand, began to bring up all of the possibilities of what could go wrong with each of Arthur’s plans. Death, war, hangings, and even something to do with heads in a pot of stew had come from his mouth.

                _“They’ll invade the castle and take all of the women and children and behead the men! They’ll eat us for stew, they’ll throw rosemary on top of our-“_

 But oddly enough, Merlin was in fact the one to come up with a solution, to settle both sides with agreements and such. Arthur was surprised actually, and even a little perplexed. But he was thankful none the less. Even if Merlin did overreact on most things, he was always the brightest to come up with a plan. Always the one to worry, always the one to save the day.

                But this time he wasn’t here.

                This time Arthur had to be the one to perform both duties.

~*~

                Arthur rode fast.

                He never would have done so if it wasn‘t for Merlin. He would have gone slower, not for leisure of course, but to look for tracks or markings. But in this case, Arthur didn’t care for any of those. He needed to find him. Now.

                Lancelot rode beside him, or more behind him. His horse was the slower of the two, with great disappointment from Arthur. Lillip, they called her. Lance called her Lily, and even Lily Bells at times. He’d cared for her since she was just a foal, and Lancelot just married. Arthur knew he loved her, and knew he couldn’t make the journey without her, but _damn it_ , they needed to go faster.

                They needed to find Merlin. They needed to.

                Arthur had left the castle without haste. Guinevere had somehow convinced him to hold back a few days when Merlin hadn’t returned. But when three days had passed and there was still no sign of him, forget ladies in wed telling him what to do. He was actually planning on going solo, but when Lancelot insisted, _insisted,_ that he come too, Arthur couldn’t say no. They were best friends.

                He had left Leon in charge.

                “Arthur!”

                He kept riding. If Lancelot couldn’t keep up he couldn’t keep-

                “His horse!”

                Arthur stopped. He backed Derum up and swung his head around, giving a mighty kick to get him back to where Lancelot had stopped. Nearly thirty yards.

 Damn.

                Lily pounded her hooves in excitement. Daisy did too.

                “Where is he?”

                Arthur jumped from his horse before Derum could even stop. The reins fell to the side and Derum automatically began to walk away. Both men ignored him. Arthur’s heart was pounding. Lancelot was already checking Daisy’s saddle bags, pulling out random trinkets and clothing.

  1.                 “Where is he?” Arthur repeated. Lancelot looked up and shook his head. He continued searching in the-              



                Lancelot slowly pulled out a bloody cloth.

                Arthur’s heart stopped. He took hold of Daisy’s neck before he could fall over, Lancelot assisting by taking his arm with a firm grasp.

                “This doesn’t mean anything, it could be-“

                “Merlin’s.” Arthur took the cloth away from Lancelot, inspecting it. “It’s his old neckerchief. He’s kept them in his pockets for years.”

                Lancelot stared blankly at the piece of cloth before taking it away from Arthur and stuffing it back in the bag. Arthur saw him pause briefly, taking a few breaths, before turning to the ground to look for prints.

                “He’s got to be here; somewhere.”

                Arthur sounded panicked now. His voice cracked disgustingly, but Lancelot didn’t notice. He didn’t care. Both men looked to the ground for markings of any kind; blood, imprints, clothing. Arthur gripped his red cape from behind him in his hand, digging his nails into it. He thought he felt something sticky, and when he looked he saw the fabric ripped and stained with a different shade of red. His stomach churned at the thought of the cloth, and he unhooked his cape and threw it to the ground.

                The leaves crunched under his feet, the birds shouted swears at him, and the wind hit him like a sword against a shield. It rattled his body, shaking him from head to toe. He turned to look at Lancelot. He was farther away than he expected; his face was only barely noticeable from where Arthur stood. He’d walked too far. Merlin wouldn’t have gone this far; he couldn’t have.

                Arthur turned around and started to head back. His head was swerving to the left and right, searching for any sign of him. Anything.

Then Lancelot called.

                “I found him!”

                “Arthur, I found him!”

                He took off in a run. He trampled over his fallen cloak and swatted branches out of his face. His longer hair, which Merlin had made him grow, flew behind him in a rush. The wind beat against his face, saying _stop stop you can’t go any further you’re not going to make it you’re not-_

“Where is he?” Arthur yelled, stopping to only swivel his head around to look for the-for Merlin. “Lance, where is he?” His head was pounding and if he weren’t in this situation he most certainly would’ve passed out.

                “Over here!”

Arthur spotted his back by a stream. He was hunched over something; something with black boots and black pants.

                Arthur was kneeling in the water in a matter of seconds. His hands were cupped around Merlin’s cheeks; his pale, wet cheeks, drawn and taken in. He ignored the ripped clothing, the damp fabric, and the way his limbs were strewn about. He gently kissed his lips, taking in the feel, the wet, cold but familiar feel of his Merlin. He kissed him again.

Lancelot was checking his pulse. His hands were on his neck and his wrist. Arthur kept his face by Merlin’s, closing his eyes and waiting for the announcement.

                “He’s alive.”

                Another kiss and a low laugh. Lancelot even let out something that resembled a chuckle, but was silent and already feeling for injuries. Arthur assisted. He lifted Merlin’s shirt and god he wish he hadn’t.

                “Hell.” Lancelot murmured.

                Black and purple bruises danced up and down Merlin’s chest. Yellow was thrown in there somewhere too, and Arthur had to resist gasping when he saw dry blood caking his lower abdomen. Lancelot lowered the shirt before Arthur could draw his sword and go looking for the son of bitches who had done this. If he ever found them, if he ever got his hands around their throats-

Next were his pants.

                “Should I-“

                “I don’t care.” Arthur said through gritted teeth. They needed to check and they needed to get out of there. No time for behind the curtain scenes.

                Arthur pulled down his pants gently, carefully lifting his legs to pull them to his ankles.

                Lancelot grabbed Arthur before he fell into the water. He let breakfast run down the stream.

                Gasping and heaving, Arthur let Lancelot rub circles into his back, letting him shake and cry. It seemed like a millennium before he was threw dry heaving, and was leaning back towards his husband; broken and ripped.

                “I’m going to kill them.” Arthur promised, lowly and with a growl, wiping his mouth and staring at his Merlin’s legs. Lancelot was looking away, tears blinking their way to the surface. He was gripping his sword with both hands; staring into the forest, waiting for anybody to dare to come out from behind a tree.

No one did.

                “I’M GOING TO KILL THEM!”

                Lancelot slowly looked back at Arthur. He was bent over Merlin’s body, grasping both of his hands in his own. His body was shaking with anger; fury, rage. It couldn’t be anything else. Nothing but. . . regret.

He had one of Merlin’s fingers in between two of his own, stroking something Lancelot couldn’t see.

_“Leave it here.” Arthur breathed down to Merlin, who had his head comfortably on his chest. The former man-servant looked up at his King with batting, confused eyes. Arthur motioned his head to the former’s hand, where he continued to wring a golden band unevenly up and down his finger._

_“And leave it to be with you? That’s not how this kind of thing works, you know.”_

_“I’m aware, thank you Merlin.” He playfully scorned the younger, who grinned back._

_“Actually, I’d like to take it, if that’s alright.” He turned his head away. “To inform them of my undying love, my heart’s beater of unrhymetic rounds, to explain the sparkle that lay in my eye-“ His hands outwardly stretched to add emphasis on his dramatic play._

_“Alright, alright.” Arthur pushed him at the sappy words he tried to produce. “But I only fear you’ll lose it.” His eyes flashed back to multiple times he had in fact lost the band that symbolized more than everything between them, one of them occurring in a pig’s stable, which still baffled the older blonde to this day._

_“No worries,” Merlin looked up at the other again, brilliantly showing his purely white teeth. “I shall keep this ring upon my body till a sword pierces my side and the blood falls from the wound. And even then, I shall keep it clutched in my hand till you come to pry it from my cold, dead-“_

_“Stop.” Arthur interrupted, this time all seriousness on his face. The younger looked at him cheekily for a second until he saw the glint in his lover’s eye, a single tear of frustration, causing him to raise his body from the bare chest and propping himself against the headboard beside him._

_“I didn’t-“ Merlin started for an apology, but Arthur clasped his hand over his own before he could say another word._

_“Don’t. I know you were just-“ He paused here as he swallowed a forming lump in his throat, “joking. But if that came to be, I don’t care if the clothes are ripped from your body and the hair cut from atop your head, you will return home,” here he smiled and raised his free hand to caress Merlin’s tight jaw line, “with your pale buttocks shining in the sun behind you.”_

_Merlin laughed here, bringing his other hand to put on the duo of interlocked fingers beneath him. He scooted closer to the King, wrapping the thin, wool blanket he had draped over his scrawny form closer to his collar bone. “And if that came to be, I should run home with the band hanging ever so freely from my-“_

_Arthur cleared his throat and squeezed the hand beneath his._

_“thumb.” Merlin finished, grinning from ear to ear. “Hanging from my thumb.”_

_What had occurred after those words had involved the removal of the wool blanket and soon-to-be strewn breeches, leaving both of them flustered and blushing, but comfortingly comfortable, against each other’s bare chests and closed, sleeping eyes._

                The water trailed past them, down the stream and on to another place. Tiny fish swam around their ankles and nibbled on their skin. Arthur crushed one under his foot.

“Let’s get him home.” He finally said. Lancelot nodded and wiped away a tear. Arthur was pulling up Merlin’s pants, and when he was done, he lifted his Merlin from the water with ease. He cradled him against his chest and let tears fall on him. Lancelot didn’t say a word.

~*~

                Derum was never found. Lancelot had gone looking for him while Arthur rode ahead on Daisy. But he never found him. Arthur had had that horse for seven years. The year he and Merlin had gotten married. He was a gift from Gwen and Lance. But gifts didn’t last forever, did they?

~*~

                It only took Daisy two whinneys and three sidesteps before people were rushing from the main door of the castle. Arthur was clinging to Merlin, face buried deep into his neck. It took two guards to pry their king away from their other king. Gwaine had to physically hold Arthur from running after Merlin, and Percival jumped in too at some point and had him on the ground with his arms against his chest. All of the kicking and screaming in the world couldn’t get Percy to budge.

                At some point Arthur had calmed down, and both knights escorted him to his chambers. When Arthur saw Merlin lying on their bed he rushed to his side.

                “Is he okay? Is he going to be alright?”

                Arthur was leaning beside the bed, pushing Merlin’s hair back over and over and kissing his forehead repeatedly. Tears were streaming down his face, oblivious of the audience. Gaius was down by Merlin’s legs, which were bare from bottom to the top of his head. He already had some sort of cream rubbed into his skin and he was now looking closely at the scratches.

                “He’ll be fine, my boy.”

                He still called everyone that. Even though they were way past childhood, and he was way past supposed to be living. That’s what Merlin had said, anyways. Gaius hadn’t laughed, but Gwaine surely did.

                “He’ll live?”

                Gwaine was standing away from the bed, but looked desperately at Merlin for any sign of movement. Percival had left the room to get Sarya no doubt.

                “Well past that.” Gaius answered reassuringly. “He’s only been banged up a bit.” He paused here and looked over his spectacles with raised eyebrows. “I’m afraid though, that-“

                “I know, Gaius.” Arthur interrupted. He was holding Merlin’s hand now, having planted kisses on it; everywhere he could reach. He was looking at the older man sadly, then with anger he turned back to Merlin and laid his head on his chest.

                “That what?” Gwaine asked, stepping forward. “I’m sorry if I’m supposed to understand but I-“

                “Leave.”

                “Arthur!” Gaius scolded. Gwaine was one of Merlin’s best friends. The hurt on his face was evident, and the word had stung, but he bowed his head respectfully and left the room without another word.

                “You shouldn’t have said that.” Gaius said, moving to gain his footing from where he sat.

                “I shouldn’t have, but I did.” Arthur said, then focused his attention on pulling the covers over Merlin’s lower body. He then returned his head to the now warm, moving chest. “How long till he wakes?”

                “I couldn’t tell you.” Gaius said, ignoring Arthur’s smart remark. “But while he’s asleep he’ll be fine, and that’s all that matters.”

                Arthur closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He heard Gaius get up on creaky, weak knees and walk to the other side of the room. Water splashed from one something to another something. When he opened them again a cup was being held in front of his face.

                “Thank you.”

                He took the cup and swallowed the contents in one go. He set it beside him on the floor and returned to his place. Eyes closed again, he addressed Gaius,

                “You may leave now, if there isn’t anything else you can administer to him.”

                “There isn’t.”

                He sounded hurt.

                “I’ll fetch you when he wakes.”

                The sound of a door opening and closing, and they were alone.

                But not for long, unfortunately.

                Arthur quickly wiped his eyes dry when he heard the door open again, and a small screech echoed through the room.

                “Daddy!”

                Arthur’s eyes flew open and a smile spilt across his face, fake but needed. A dirty-blonde headed four year old came sprinting into the room, pony tails flying behind her. Arthur got up on both of his legs and caught the little girl by the waist, then swung her in a quick circle before placing her back on her feet. She smiled up at him for less than a second before peering around his legs to look at what was on the bed.

                “Is that daddy?”

                Before he could even answer Sarya was scuttling behind him and onto the bed. He opened his mouth to protest, but a hand on his shoulder made him turn around.

                “Let her; she hasn’t seen him in days.”

                Percival looked wrecked. His eyes were weak and bags were deep and noticeable under them. His hair was frayed to the right, which was unusual for him, and he looked as if he were wearing the same thing he had been when Merlin had been notified as missing. A smile, though, was evident.

                Arthur smiled and turned back towards the bed. Sarya was on the other side of Merlin, playing with his hair and whispering into his ear. Arthur silently thanked the gods that he had covered Merlin decently.

                “I’ll be in my chambers, if you need me.” Percival said, knowing fully well he wouldn’t be called tonight. He gave Arthur one last pat on the back, gave Merlin a sorrowful look, then left the room with a soft _thunk_ of the door.

                “Is daddy sleeping?” Sarya looked up from where she sat, eyes batting innocently. Her hair was no longer in pony tails, and Arthur spotted the bows on the floor.

                “Yes, daddy’s sleeping.” Arthur said, walking around the bed to get on. He scooted up beside his little girl and lay down beside her. He gently ran a hand through her hair and whispered, “Daddy’s had a long ride.”

                “Is he okay?” She whispered back and looked down at Arthur with a serious look. _She’s just like him,_ Arthur thought, _all knowing; my little girl._

                “He’s fine, I promise.” He patted the part of the bed on his other side. “Come here, you can sleep with us tonight.”

                Sarya squealed with delight and jumped over Arthur with one leap, landing in a big huff on all fours on the other side. Arthur chuckled and pulled her in for a giant bear hug, as she liked to call it. She giggled and squirmed until he let her go.

                “Beatrice won’t be happy to hear this.” She said, settling down beside him under the covers. He kissed her cheek and smiled.

                “Well Beatrice doesn’t have to know, now does she?” God he hated that woman. Being a nanny gave her no right to tell Sarya where she could and couldn’t sleep. Bless her if he ever found out she was telling Sarya what to _eat_.

                “Secret?”

                Sarya held out her pinky and pushed it against Arthur’s hand. He slipped his pinky onto hers and she clasped them together.

                “Secret.” He promised. Sarya smiled and snuggled closer to Arthur, humming softly as she closed her eyes. Arthur let her push up against his side, even as he looked longingly to his left at Merlin.

                Somehow it had gotten dark outside. The candles weren’t lit, causing the room to cast giant shadows in the corners from the stars’ light. Arthur could make out half of the moon in a corner window on the other side of the room. A fly flew right on the spot he saw it.

                Sarya’s deep, slow breathing indicated that she was sleeping. Arthur kissed her on the cheek one more time before rolling on his other side to face Merlin. He too was sleeping, or at least Arthur hoped so. He scooted closer to him, wrapping his arm around his torso, laying his head against Merlin’s.

                He was safe. Merlin was back in his bed, with his husband and daughter. All was right.

                But then, it wasn’t.

 Arthur ran his hand down under the covers, softly feeling the skin he was so familiar with. He stopped when he got to his legs, closing his eyes and whispering a prayer. He continued and eventually happened across the scratches and bruises covered in cream. Merlin mumbled something incoherently, and Arthur leaned in closer to hear. He was silent.

The king gave Merlin his entire body warmth, he made sure of that. He kept his hand on the bare chest and his head in the crook of his neck. The sound of air coming from Merlin’s nose and slipping past the top of Arthur’s head to his face was pure bliss.

He breathed him in.

                “Goodnight, my moon and stars.”

And Arthur wished he could hear Merlin reply, _and you, my brightest sun._

~*~


	3. Chapter 3

_It was raining; no, it was pouring. Firing shards of glass dropped on him and sent pain shooting through his entire body. One fell on his neck and slid down his back, ever so slowly, complete agony breaking out as it left a trail of blood. The sound of it rang in his ears and made him want to scream; want to pull his hair out; to die._

_He felt like he belonged._

_He finally opens his eyes, slowly, because he's scared of what he might see. And he should be, because once he does, its hell. Red skies loom over him with a mocking laughter, while the ground is black and desolate. There's no brush; no trees or flowers or even grass. He squints as the rain threatens to slice one of his eyes; he covers them with his hands and peaks out between his fingers; better._

_He doesn't want to move, to take a step, but he doesn't want to stand there forever either. He's not wearing any clothes; he needs to protect himself. He needs his sword and shield to fight off his enemies. That's what they're for, but they're nowhere in sight. Nothing is. He feels the shame even though nobody is looking. His face gets hot as he removes one hand from his face and places it in front of his area._

_It's time to move, he supposes. But instead of stepping forward, he slowly turns around, feet sliding against the glass covered ground. They invite themselves over into his soles, digging themselves in, deeper and deeper. He doesn't scream though; he doesn't make a sound. He removes his other hand from his face because he sees something in the distance. But there wasn't supposed to be a something, there was supposed to be nothing. But-_

_Was that water? The thought of it makes him happy; excited. He tries to make himself debate about it, but something in him takes over. Without thinking he takes off into a run, ignoring the shards of glass he's stepping on. They're only pain, who cares? He passes nothing, only dark, cold air. His hair is flying behind him as the wind tries to push him back; hard against his face, just like the glass rain. But the rain was gone. Only the water in front of him was there, and he was getting closer._

_Now he wants to yell, but what will he say? He has to rejoice in some way; say something in honor of his joy. He's getting nearer, he can almost taste it, or smell it, or hear it; he's not sure which one._

_"Merlin!"_

_That seemed like as good a word as any. He decides to yell it again._

_"Merlin! I'm coming!"_

_No, too many words. He decides to yell the first one alone this time._

_"Merlin!"_

_Now he's running faster. He doesn't care about the water; he doesn't want it. He wants what's in the water: his Merlin. His Merlin is in the water, he's not safe, he's drowning. He's dying; he knows it. If he doesn't get there soon-_

_splash_

_His feet are in the water. He doesn't even say a final goodbye to fresh air before he dives underneath the surface. His eyes are already searching for his Merlin; darting back and forth between empty spaces. He feels his heart clench up as he begins to panic. No time to refill on air._

_Something to his left catches his eye and he's already moving towards it. He seems to be going slower than he usually does in water. Blasted armour. When did it get there? He doesn't take the time to tug it off; just keeps moving forward as fast as he can._

_As he draws nearer he reaches out his hand. He can see his Merlin; lying at the bottom, unmoving. His black hair is waving about him in a mocking movement. "Guilty, guilty, GUILTY!" He curses at it. He keeps moving forward, but he's not getting closer. His legs and arms begin to feel too weak to keep going. His Merlin is drifting away, into the darkness. He screams at him to come back, but he doesn't listen. He can't; he's dead._

_"Merlin!"_

_"Please-_

"Arthur."

_"Merlin, please don't-_

"-ake up."

" _Come back!"_

"Arthur! Wake up!"

He jolts up in bed, gripping the sheets in his fists. A blast of wind hits his face and shakes him. His chest is moving too fast and he realizes he's trying to catch his breath. But he can't.

Where's Merlin?

His head jolts around and hits something hard. He brings it back as an "ouch" resonates beside him. He groans to himself and puts his hand on his head. Someone else's is on his arm.

"Arthur, are you alright?"

Arthur repeats the head movement and Merlin isn't in the way this time. He's backed away now, but still close, and sitting up. And it's him. There he is; in the flesh, not underwater, not dead. It was just a dream, just a nightmare. Merlin is alive. Arthur simply stares for a moment; taking in his beauty. And he's smiling, the idiot.

"What do you mean am I alright?" Arthur finally asks with a stern face. "You were-I mean-you were unconscious for god's sake!"

Merlin's smile slips away and he removes his hand from Arthur's arm. The king unintentionally leans forward, missing its warmth.

Merlin doesn't say anything.

"You were. . ." He pauses and puts a hand on Merlin's cheek. The latter blushes on cue, and Arthur smiles. "You idiot."

He leans forward and takes Merlin by surprise, receiving the kiss he'd been waiting for a long time. It's warm and soft and right; everything he'd been missing for what seems like forever. He moves his other hand on Merlin's face and takes him in, holding him closer until he's almost on top of him. Merlin's hands are in his hair, running themselves through over and over, making his stomach fill with butterflies. And he swears Merlin would have let him go all the way if Arthur hadn't broken the moment.

"Mmmm." Merlin moans, still holding Arthur as he pulls back. He tries to lean forward to receive more, but Arthur only takes his hands from his hair and holds them tightly in his own. The disappointment in his eyes is pitiful, and Arthur sighs as he allows Merlin to snuggle closer to him.

"You were nearly dead, Merlin."

"Was I?"

"Yes."

"Well that seems awful."

Arthur playfully slaps him, and regrets it when Merlin winces. His eyes close as he takes a deep breath. When they open, they seem lost.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I never wanted to scare you."

And damn right he did. Ever since he found out he had magic he'd been scared. Protecting Merlin was hard, especially when the younger didn't receive the help gratefully.

"Do you know what happened?" Arthur asked. He sat up on his elbow, one hand still interlaced in Merlin's.

". . .No?"

"Is that a yes?"

"No, it's an I don't know kind of no." Merlin said, directing his eyes elsewhere.

Arthur sighed and squeezed his hand. Now wasn't the time to interview Merlin; he'd just woken up, or at least he thought so. One thing Arthur wasn't expecting when he woke this morning was to find Merlin awake before him. And to see him talking and sitting up was a miracle in his eyes, and it would certainly be in Gaius' too.

"Where's Sarya?" Arthur asked, changing the topic quickly. He would ask questions later.

Merlin's eyes found Arthur's instantly and his face lit up. "I don't know; I haven't seen her." The look in his eyes told Arthur that he wanted to though, badly.

Arthur allowed himself a small smile at his lover's face, and patted his arm before he unwillingly crawled out of bed.

"I'll go find her."

He walks around to Merlin's side of the bed, where his shirt is strewn on the floor, and picks it up. Merlin starts to move too, but Arthur pushes him back.

"You wait here. You're not ready to get out of bed yet." He pulls his shirt on over his head. "I'll bring back Sarya and Gaius."

He places a soft kiss on Merlin's forehead as the younger snuggles deeper within the blankets. "I'll be back."

He began to walk away as Merlin said,

"I'll be-"

and nothing.

Arthur stops in his tracks and turns around. He didn't hear the last word. "What'd you say?"

Merlin's face is scrunched up as he starts to sit up. Arthur starts to walk back to him, worry etching his face, when an odd movement makes him stop.

"What was that?"

"I don't-" and again; there it was.

"That, what was it?"

Merlin looks over at Arthur with big eyes and shakes his head, but right in the middle of making his head move side to side, it jerks fast to his right. Arthur walks the rest of the way to the bed.

"Why're you doing that?"

"I can't help it." His head jerks again, followed by his hand twitching and jutting upwards and back down to the bed.

"Are you. . .doing it voluntarily?" Arthur asks, watching as Merlin repeats the head movement again.

"Why on earth would I make myself do this; to amuse you?" His head jerks again, but harder this time, and Merlin hisses and brings his hand to his neck.

"Did that one hurt?"

Merlin nods his head slowly. Arthur places a hand on Merlin's forehead, searching for a fever. It was cool.

"I think I'll get Gaius first." Arthur says slowly, standing up with his hand still on Merlin's forehead. "Stay here."

"Not going-" a jerk.

"Good. Just. . .don't get out of bed either. I'll be right back." He kisses his cheek and hurries out of the room.

He had never run so fast in his life. He was already on the other side of the castle in under a minute. The thought of what was wrong with Merlin made him sick, and he wasted no time on getting to Gaius' chambers. Several knights tried to stop him on the way, either asking questions or congratulating him on finding Merlin. He waved each of them off.

"He's moving in odd motions, uncontrollably I think." Arthur walked ahead of the older man, ignoring the slower pace of Gaius and focusing on who was waiting for him back in his room.

"What is he moving?" Gaius asked. He was tugging along a bag filled with bottles and un-namable tools he had gathered when Arthur had banged on his door.

"His head several times, and I saw his hand do the same thing once." Arthur said. "Gaius, what is it? Is he sick?"

"I don't know, my boy. I'll have to see him for myself."

They stopped in front of a pair of chamber doors and Arthur swung them open without a second's pause. He dashed over to the bed, where Merlin was curled up into a tight ball.

"Hey, Merlin, hey. Gaius is here." He laid a hand on the small of his back, trying to coax the younger man out of his form. Merlin didn't budge.

"Merlin, you must sit up." Gaius said, stepping beside Arthur and laying a hand on his shoulder. "Just for a few minutes, then it's back to sleep for the entire day if you want."

Merlin shook his head and the same jerk from before followed after. Arthur looked sideways at Gaius with wide eyes. The older man had a frown on his face, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Merlin, please." He removed his hand and kneeled down onto his knees. Arthur held his arm as he lowered himself.

"You're being stubborn, Merlin. There's no point in acting like a child." Arthur tried out his former prat-prince tone, hoping it would scare the warlock. It did.

"I'm not acting like-"

"AGH."

Merlin threw his hands in the air at being interrupted again from the odd movement of his head. He peered over his shoulders at Arthur, who had a look of sympathy on his face, and then at Gaius, whose face read nothing now.

"So what's wrong with me, great old physician? Am I dying? Am I becoming a freak of nature?" Merlin had rolled onto his side now, supporting his head on his hand. Arthur sat on the bed beside him and held his other hand. He squeezed it rather hard at the rude comment.

Gaius ignored it. "I'm afraid I-", Merlin's head moved again, "don't quite know." He finished. "And you can't control it?"

Merlin shook his head and bit back his lip. He buried his head into Arthur's side and coughed.

"Are you feeling ill? Sick, maybe?"

"No." He mumbled, barely audible.

Arthur rubbed a circle into his back. Merlin leaned into the touch and sighed.

"I don't know what's wrong with me; it just happened, and now it won't-" a jerk. "And to be quite honest I'm getting really tired of it."

Gaius watched Merlin for a moment, who in that time jerked his head several times, more so than he did earlier. Arthur still held his hand tightly, and once brought it up to his lips.

"So…?" Merlin stared at Gaius, who was now placing a hand on his forehead. When he felt nothing hot, he brought the other hand to his face and massaged Merlin's cheekbones.

"What're you doing?" Merlin tried to shy away from him, his bruises on his cheeks firing up at the touch.

"Feeling for a displacement. Oh-for heaven's sake, keep still." He held Merlin's head firmly until he quit squirming. He continued to feel his entire head, then moved to his neck. Several hand marks were wrapped around his throat, and Gaius swallowed a large lump as he felt around them. Arthur looked away.

When there was silence, the king looked down at Gaius, who was now rummaging through his bag for something. He pulled out a vial of green liquid and handed it to Arthur.

"Drink this. Sleep, rest, and eat once you wake. I'm not sure if it will help, but it's worth a try." Gaius paused and rubbed a hand down his face. "I'm sorry Merlin, but I've never seen something quite like this. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with your bone placements or arteries. More studies though I'm sure will prove to answer mine, and your, questions."

Merlin took the vial from Arthur and drank it in one swallow. One thing he had learned as he'd grown was to always listen to Gaius when it came to medical help, or any help at all. Never ask questions, just do it. Merlin had made that the older man's motto several years ago, and he'd stuck to it all the way.

"Gaius, can I speak with you outside?" Arthur let go of Merlin's hand and shooed away the questioning face. The physician slowly got onto his feet and followed the king to the door.

"I'll be right back." Arthur promised as he shut the door behind them. Merlin rolled his eyes and snuggled below the covers.

Once the door had shut, Arthur turned around to Gaius with a worried look.

"Do you think it could be-"

"We can't be sure, sire. By the looks of it, he doesn't even remember the happening. Most people who go through something like that tend to shy away from others and touch in general. They close in on themselves. He seems fine with you touching him, and he doesn't seem to be shy around me."

The older man's face grew weary at the topic, and he seated himself on a bench.

Arthur crossed his arms in annoyance. He became suddenly hot, and extremely angry.

"But-I mean, what the hell else would cause him to do that?"

Gaius sat back and crossed his legs. He raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I don't know."

Arthur sighed in frustration. He paced for a minute and then pushed his hands against one of the walls. He held in a scream, a curse. He wouldn't let Merlin hear him. If he didn't remember what those-those damned people had done to him, he sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to tell him. No one would.

"Damn them. Damn them all." He didn't yell or scream it. He said it to let them know that when he found them, he would kill them.

"I know this is hard for you, as it is for I, but we mustn't-"

"I know." Arthur said between clenched teeth, but relaxed when he remembered to whom he was talking. "I know," he said softer this time, "I won't tell him."

"Actually, I was about to suggest we do tell him."

"What?" Arthur yelled, then covered his mouth hoping Merlin hadn't heard him. They both waited for a "what was that?" to come through the door, but it didn't.

"How could you say that?" Arthur said in a lower voice, but just as strong and harsh as a shout. "Why would you condemn him to that knowledge? It would ruin his life!"

Gaius stood and laid a hand on Arthur's arm, comforting him and telling him not to talk so loud at the same time. His famous eyebrow raise was evident.

"Sire, I do not mean to make you angry. I only suggest this because he may regain those memories, and if he does, he'll be mortified. He'll close in on himself."

Arthur shook off Gaius' hand and crossed his arms.

"Arthur", now Gaius was serious, "if we don't tell him, and he does remember, he'll feel ashamed and much like an outcast. His mind will overtake him and tell him stuff that isn't true." He paused and picked up the bag by his feet, all the while watching Arthur's blank expression. "If we do tell him, he'll know we understand, and that we're here for him."

He waited for a response, and when he got none, he continued.

"I'm going back to my rooms to finish some work. If you haven't told him by the time I come back tonight, I will. I'm sorry, Arthur, but it's the only way." With that he turned his back on the king and walked away.

Arthur unintentionally slammed open his chamber doors, causing a loud bang to startle Merlin from his position. Arthur mummbled an apology as he walked over to the table, where he noticed breakfast was waiting. The servant must have come in before he'd woken.

"You didn't have to act like that." Arthur commented as he sat himself in a chair. He picked up a fork and started shoveling eggs into his mouth.

"Well excuse me." Merlin threw the covers off of his legs. Arthur heard a sigh of frustration, and guessed that the jerk was still there. That's what he'd call it from now on. He hated that Merlin had it, the jerk.

"Just forget it." Arthur turned to look at Merlin and noticed he was trying to get out of bed. He jumped out of his seat and forced him to lie back down. Merlin rolled his eyes and turned away from Arthur.

"I can't really forget it, Arthur. I'm a freak now."

"No, you're not." Arthur scorned. "You're still Merlin; the famous warlock; the last dragon lord." When Merlin mumbled something, he added, "You're invincible." He tried his best to comfort him. He scooted himself onto the bed beside Merlin and wrapped his arms around him.

"Shut up. You're just-"

"Dammit!"

Merlin threw his hands over his head and held in another curse. He was shaking now, more likely out of anger than being cold. Arthur tightened his grip on him.

"Stop it, you're perfect." He placed a kiss on the back of his head. Merlin let his arms go back down. He didn't believe his king.

There was a long pause where both just lay there, listening to each other breathe, Merlin occasionally jerking his head or arms. Arthur didn't comment on how he got hit each time.

Merlin finally shifted himself onto his other side to face Arthur. Their noses where only inches apart.

"Shouldn't you be doing training?"

"I should, but right now I'm here."

Merlin smiled. "I'm not dying."

"But you-" Arthur stopped. He didn't want to say the wrong words; to make Merlin uncomfortable or feel like a cripple. He let the words go and snuggled closer to him.

The doors slammed open, and a giggle came from the other side of the room.

Both men jumped up from their positions.

"Daddy!"

Sarya, hair up in a perfect bun, clothed in her 'special' dress, came running to the bed. Arthur caught her before she could run into it and lifted her up into the air, preventing her contact with Merlin. She wiggled in his arms, reaching for her other father.

"Honey, calm down." Arthur said. He put her on his hip. "Daddy's not feeling well, so you have to be careful with him."

Sarya frowned, then her face became determined. "Don't worry, I've got this." Arthur let her slip out of his hands and onto the bed. Merlin's smile was priceless.

"My princess!" He took her in his arms and squeezed her tight. She buried her head into his shoulder and they stayed that way.

"She's been asking all day to see him."

Arthur turned around to find Lancelot directly behind him. His hair was a mess, probably from Sarya playing with it. She was always putting the knights' hair into braids and pig tails.

"Thank you for bringing her." Arthur said. "I doubt her nanny would have."

Lancelot chuckled softly, then peered over Arthur to see Merlin. He looked tired; there were dark circles under his eyes.

"Have you slept at all?" Arthur asked. Lancelot looked back at him with a weak grin.

"The best I could do." He said. When he saw that Arthur wasn't content with the answer, he added, "Not much you can do when your best friend is involved."

Arthur nodded and looked back at Merlin, who was talking light-heartedly to Sarya about what she'd been doing while he was gone. You couldn't pay Merlin with anything to wipe that grin off of his face.

"He is something special." Arthur agreed. He waited for Lancelot to say that he needed to get going; to practice with the other knights or go eat. He said nothing.

"Did you need something?" The king asked.

"Actually, yes." He said, shifting his feet. "It's a matter of privacy, though." He nodded towards Sarya.

Arthur understood. While he hated to tear the two apart, he knew that when Lancelot was serious, the matter was too. He walked over to the bed and put a hand on his little girl's back. She looked up at him, grinning.

"Daddy's doing weird things." She giggled, then pointed to him as he jerked his head again. Arthur's eyes widened, waiting for Merlin to comment. But he only laughed along with Sarya, tickling her stomach as a bonus.

"Honey, can you go find Gwaine for me?" He asked, bending down to her level, hating to interrupt the moment. "I think he promised to play with you today, if I recall correctly."

"But-"

"Please, Sarya. I promise daddy will still be here when you're done." He smiled. "I bet Gwaine will let you play with his hair."

And that did it. She jumped from the bed with a squeal and raced out of the room, brushing past Lancelot without even a simple goodbye. He heard something like, "Gwainey, Gwainey, where are you?" in the distance.

Arthur turned to Lancelot. "Should we sit?"

He nodded. But before he sat down he walked over to Merlin, who was trying to get out of the bed. He knew the matter was important, and wouldn't lie in bed during the discussion. Both Arthur and Lancelot helped him to his feet, shakily, and over to the table and into a chair. He shivered; he was only wearing pants.

Arthur sat beside him, and Lancelot across from them.

"I suppose you already know what I want to discuss." Lancelot said right away. Arthur looked over at Merlin and nodded.

"The war." Arthur said lowly. He leaned on his elbows, stomach already knotting up. Merlin leaned back in his chair with a huff.

"Sir Barnard is still alive and well. He's training outside as we speak." Lancelot informed them. "I don't think he believes he will die. He laughs it off each time someone mentions it, which is rare might I add."

Arthur knew the knight would deny it. He would too, if he were in that position. And no one could blame him, it was a hard fate.

Merlin spoke before he could.

"Tell whoever is talking about it to stop, or they'll be put off guard for a month." The decree startled both Arthur and Lancelot, but it was understood perfectly. Both nodded in agreement.

"I suppose-" Lancelot was cut off by Merlin, whose head had jerked to the right. He averted his eyes and continued, "that we'll have to start preparing."

Gaius must have told the knights, for Lancelot said nothing about the odd movements Merlin made during their discussion. They continued on talking about what reinforcements they might need, what other kingdoms they might recruit, and how long they have until the day was to come. In the end, they decided on having a meeting in four days with other nobles and knights, enough time for hopeful recruits to arrive.

"I'll send out letters to the nearest easily commuted kingdoms." Lancelot said, standing abruptly from the table. "We have a lot to do, but I can assure you it will get done."

Arthur rose from the table, then helped Merlin out of his seat too. Lancelot walked around and grasped Merlin into a hug. He whispered something to him that Arthur couldn't hear. Both laughed.

He then turned to Arthur and bowed. Arthur laid a hand on his shoulder, a signal that told him to rise. He smiled softly to both of them, then turned to leave the room.

Arthur turned to Merlin, who was gripping the chair firmly to hold himself up. His breath was weak. Arthur took his arm and led him back to the bed.

"So a war." He said, laying back onto a pillow, choosing to sit up rather than lie down. "Against druids."

"Yeah." Arthur murmured, plopping down beside him and bringing his feet to rest on the board that held the mattress. He put his arms on his knees and laid his head in them.

"Let's just hope I'm cured before it." Merlin said, followed by a small chuckle. Arthur lifted his head.

"You will be." He said sternly. "Gaius will find something, or someone."

"And even if he doesn't-"

"He will." Arthur interrupted. "You'll be fine, I promise."

Merlin scoffed and slid down under the covers. He was asleep before Arthur could say another word.

Lancelot's letters had arrived that same day to neighboring kingdoms, and two days later hundreds of knights were gathered outside of Camelot's walls. Each kingdom's leader had met with Arthur briefly to discuss housing. Most of them would be camping near and around Camelot, while one specific kingdom had the honor of staying inside Camelot's castle walls. This was Uther's oldest friend, King Henley of the Richardson descendants. In Arthur's eyes, an honorable, and rather friendly, man.

During those two days Merlin had been quarantined in his room. He only had Sarya to keep him company, and occasionally Arthur and some of the knights. Much hair pulling and outfit changes had occurred during his daughter's visits, and rare joking when Lancelot or Gwaine would come in. Gaius would come in twice a day to deliver different concoctions and vials, hoping each one would do something to change Merlin's odd behavior. None of them did.

Arthur had ordered Gaius not to tell Merlin what had happened. He listened.

Arthur had tried to stay by his husband's side every minute, but found himself constantly being called upon for matters that usually didn't concern him, and more of the time for training and meetings with individual kings. They each couldn't wait until the big meeting, which was drawing nearer, to discuss what they had to say. And Arthur had to listen to each and every one of them.

On the day before the meeting, Arthur had already left the room early in the morning. He had gone before Merlin had woken, much to the warlock's disappointment. After waiting nearly two hours in bed for someone to come and visit him, he decided he had had enough of his room. He got out of bed, easier than when he had two days before, and walked over to the wardrobe. He rummaged for a minute before choosing something simple to wear: a dark, long-sleeved shirt, black pants and boots to match, and a black cape, his favorite, to keep him warm. After all, it was cold outside.

Merlin smirked to himself at what Arthur might say if he found out. Which, hopefully, he wouldn't. He would throw a never ending fit if he found out Merlin left the room unattended in his condition. Which, honestly, he didn't see what the condition was. Sure he ached everywhere except his ears, and he constantly felt a banging in his head, which might he add never left and caused him to pass out at times; but hey, he was feeling fine right now, except for the head jerking bit. But fresh air was what he needed, and he intended on getting just that.

Merlin made his way quietly down the hallways of the castle. He slipped by certain rooms carefully, afraid Arthur might be occupying one of them. To his surprise, no one he passed gave him odd looks when they saw him jerk. They simply smiled or commented on the weather. Merlin was grateful for that.

When he got to the bottom level he veered to the right, ignoring a knight that had yelled his name from down the other hallway. Arthur must have told them to watch out for him. Darn husband.

When he turned the corner he nearly ran into someone's backside. He skidded to a stop right behind him, holding up his hands in hoping he wouldn't see him. Looking at the sigil on the cape that was thrown over his back, he knew it was Gwaine. He had one arm extended, and hanging from it was Sarya, giggling and laughing as she swung back and forth. She spotted him instantly.

"Daddy!"

Gwaine turned around, a huge grin plastered on his face. Merlin's stomach sank.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Mr. Supposed-to-stay-in-bed-because-my-hubby-told-me-so." Gwaine let out a bark of laughter and stepped to the side, swinging his arm out in passage.

"You're not going to tell him?" Merlin pleaded.

"As long as you don't tell him that Peter kissed your daughter."

At the mention of the incident, Sarya shrieked.

"Ew, ew, EW! A boy kissed me! GERMS!" She let go of Gwaine's arm and started running off down the hall, screaming about germs the whole way. Both men couldn't contain their laughter.

"Keep your boy contained, Gwaine." Merlin said, patting him on the back. "My little girl can't date until she's thirty."

"Well how about that; coming from a man who married at twenty-five. And to another man at that!" Gwaine laughed. Merlin playfully kicked his knee, and Gwaine returned by pulling at Merlin's cape and pushing it up into the warlock's face. Merlin flung his hands out, and both entered into a cape-pulling brawl. Anyone who passed by ignored them or commented on how childish they were acting. Both ignored them and laughed it off. By the end, both men ended up against the walls, panting.

Gwaine looked over at Merlin and smiled. "Plus, you know I don't control that boy. His mother's the one with the voice."

Merlin smirked. "Sarah is a mighty woman; especially if she has to put up with you."

Gwaine punched Merlin on the arm.

He winced and pulled away from the knight.

_Dark, sweaty hands were grabbing at him. They pulled on his hair and legs, dragging him roughly along the hard ground. His shirt was ripped and blood was running down his mouth where someone had hit him. They were yelling insults at him, cursing and swearing, and complimenting._

_"Nice ass."_

_"I'd like some of that."_

_"How do you like to be handled, slut?"_

_It was getting dark. He was crying, screaming, pleading. He wanted Arthur. He wanted his husband. He wanted to be safe._

_"Get away from me!"_

"  _Please! Please don't hurt me!"_

" _Please!"_

"Merlin-"

" _Let go-"_

"-okay. You're okay."

" _-Arthur…"_

"He's coming, I promise, he's on his way."

" _No!"_

"Someone get the king!"

Lancelot's servant was the nearest, and was running towards the grand hall in seconds, no questions asked. Several maids had gathered now, backed away for safety, and watched as Gwaine tried to calm their king. Percival had heard the cries and come running from where he had been talking with another knight.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Grab his legs before he hurts himself." Gwaine ordered as he tried to contain Merlin's arms. His jerks were fast now, one every second, and Gwaine couldn't stand to watch. Merlin hissed each time his neck went the wrong way.

"Please, please!" Merlin cried. His eyes were still opened. He was trying to push himself away from the knights, kicking and throwing his arms out. Tears were running down his face.

_They were laughing at him, yelling at others to come watch. They were hitting and kicking and pulling at his clothes. He wanted to die. He wanted to die._

"Merlin, please." Gwaine pleaded.

They gave up on trying to contain him. He was backed into a corner now, lying on his side. Each time one of them tried to touch him he would cry out as if he were in pain. Gwaine tried desperately, reaching his hand out then pulling it back when Merlin screamed. Percival had ordered the maids leave.

"Where is he?" Arthur yelled as he ran down the hallway, cloak flying behind him in a rush. Gwaine jumped up from where he was squatting and allowed Arthur to bow down beside the whimpering , sweat-covered man. Percival stepped up beside Gwaine, still ringing his cape in his hands.

"He just fell screaming. I barely touched him—I—" Gwaine stuttered, then broke down. Arthur only glanced at him before returning his attention to Merlin, whispering something to him, trying to calm him. Percival placed a hand on Gwaine's shoulder.

"Merlin, it's okay. It's me. It's Arthur."

He tried placing a hand on his husband's arm, but he whimpered and tried to push himself into the wall. His eyes were looking straight at him, but at the same time, they weren't. They were distant and empty. Arthur shivered.

"Merlin, honey. Please, it's Arthur." He sounded desperate, nothing like a normal king. But who the hell cared; had to bring him back.

"I want Arthur."

His voice was like a child's; eyes wide, hair jutting up in odd angles. This wasn't Merlin.

His head fell down to his knees and he let out a heavy cry. "I want my Arthur, please."

"Hey, hey, I'm right here." Arthur said, leaning forward and placing a hand on his head. "Shhh, it's me, it's Arthur."

When Merlin didn't flinch away from him, Arthur crawled over to the warlock and covered him in his arms. "I've got you, it's alright. You're alright. Shhhh."

He stayed over him until his body stopped shaking. Gwaine stood away from them, leaning against the opposite wall, watching them. Percival had gone to get other knights, and now they were all on either side of the hallway, blocking off entrance to others. They had their backs turned away from the scene in respect.

Merlin let out a final gasp and his eyes focused. They found Gwaine's first, and the knight smiled.

"Hey, Merlin. You alright?" He got down on his knees, lowering himself to be eye to eye with Merlin. Arthur lifted himself off of his husband, but arms still wrapped around him, he stroked Merlin's hair back.

Merlin nodded, his stare blank but there. He looked up at Arthur with a confused look. Gwaine stood up and let out a sigh of relief, wiping his face dry with his sleeve.

"Wha' happened?" Merlin muttered. He looked up and down the hallway, eyeing the knights at each end.

"Let's not talk about it right now." Arthur whispered. His voice shook and cracked, but Merlin didn't seem to notice. He was starting to close his eyes.

"Should I get Percy?" Gwaine asked, indicating the muscled man at the far right of the hallway. Arthur shook his head.

"I've got him." He said softly as he lifted Merlin into his arms and slowly stood up.

Everything and everyone was quiet.

Arthur let Gwaine and Percival walk him back to his chambers, and Lancelot too when he found them passing his corridors. When they got to his own chambers he sent Gwaine to tell Gaius what had happened, and to not come for a few hours in order to let Merlin rest. The other two knights didn't enter the room, but stood outside of it in patience. They wouldn't leave until they knew Merlin was alright.

Arthur stayed by Merlin's side the entire day and night, watching him toss and turn in his sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin was _cold_. Not a “oh just throw a light shawl over me and I’ll be fine” kind of cold, but a “hell has frozen over and ascended to earth” kind of cold. He’d never felt this way before, not even when three winters ago the temperature had frozen all of the wells in Camelot, plus some of the chickens. And dammit, if someone didn’t close the windows soon he would bring hell on the entire city, and that would _not_ end well.

                Merlin shifted himself slightly, trying to go further underneath the covers. He wasn’t going to end up like those chickens, not today. When the wind continued to beat on his face though, he gave up on using ill-powered means, and muttered a spell, which shut the windows with a snap. Something across the room stirred.

                Merlin’s eyes finally let themselves open, and he found himself in his room, dark and still cold. He scanned the area and found four persons seated in chairs, three of them slumped over and snoring. The one on the left particularly loudly.

                “They’ve been here all night.”

                The fourth person was sitting up straight with his legs pulled up on the table. Merlin guessed it was Arthur, but at this point, he really didn’t care. His head was pounding.

                “Gwaine’s been here since yesterday morning.” The man, yes, it was Arthur, nodded towards the person on the left, whose snoring was aching Merlin’s head even further. The warlock muttered something and the sound ceased. Arthur snorted.

                “Lancelot and Gwen left their girls with Sarya in her chambers for the night. They couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone.” Arthur said. Merlin watched as he slowly stood up and stretched his arms upwards. “Of course, I don’t know where they got that idea. To think I would actually leave you.”

                He walked towards the bed, and Merlin could finally see his face. It was stubbly, so he hadn’t shaven. _Ew, I hate it when he does that._ His hair was a mess, making Merlin miss the days when it was shorter. But he didn’t say anything, he only blinked.

                “You feeling better?” Arthur asked. He still stood, shifting his body weight from side to side, obviously uncomfortable.

                Merlin didn’t know how to answer. Since when wasn’t he fine? He coughed.

                “Is that a…” Arthur stopped.

                “I guess.” Merlin said softly. His voice croaked. He counted _thirty-five_ , that’s how many times his head had jerked since he’d woken.

                “Do you remember what happened?”

                “Should I?” Merlin pressed. He averted his eyes elsewhere; he was a terrible liar. Arthur seemed to believe him though, as he sighed and sat himself on the edge of the bed.

                “You don’t remember falling when Gwaine…I mean…when he touched you?” Arthur asked. “You zoned out, as if you were somewhere else. You’ve been asleep for two days.”

                Merlin pretended to look surprised. Of course he remembered, but it was embarrassing, and he was scared, and so much more that he couldn’t understand quite yet. But he remembered; more than two days ago. He remembered nearly a week ago; the hands, the hurt. But that’s all he could recall, nothing more. He couldn’t put the pieces together; they were mixed in his head and it made him dizzy. Just thinking about it-

                “Woah, hey.”

Arthur jumped up from the bed as Merlin let the contents of his stomach out on the floor beside him. Arthur was already across the room and wringing out a rag over a bucket. He rushed back over and let Merlin finish, and when he had, started dabbing the rag around Merlin’s mouth. The warlock sighed and leaned back into the pillows.

“Is he awake?” A groggy voice came from one of the chairs, and Gwaine’s face was above him a second later. He was rubbing the sleep from his face, but when he saw the mess on the floor, his eyes widened.

“I told you he was sick.” Gwaine mumbled to Arthur. The king muttered something in response, which made Gwaine growl.

“Stop it.” Merlin said in a low voice. “I don’t need two bickering women taking care of me.”

“Speak for yourself.” Arthur said, but frowned when Merlin winced from the volume of his words. Merlin covered his eyes with his hands and groaned.

Arthur took this as a sign of pain and he Immidiently backed up from the bed. He pulled Gwaine with him, having to tug harder than he should have because of the stubbornness the knight was born with. The king retreated to the table, grabbed something in his hands, and brought it back to Merlin.

“Gaius said to drink this when you woke.” He handed it to Merlin, who took it gratefully and downed it instantly. He threw the bottle across the room when he was finished, letting it shatter on the cobblestone floor.

“Someone’s not a midnight person.” Gwaine said as he went to retrieve the pieces of glass.

“Shut up.” Merlin moaned. He rolled onto his stomach and threw a pillow over his head, drowning out the small noises he could hear all around the castle, one of the perks he got with being Emrys: incredible hearing. A curse more like it. He felt a hand on the small of his back, and he sighed into the touch.

“King prat here has been up since your. . .incident.” Gwaine said, and Merlin felt someone jump on the bed and crawl over to him. “I saw him eyeing your lips a couple of times too.” He whispered into his ear.

Merlin smirked as he turned to look up at Gwaine, who was leaning against the headboard now. Arthur was growling from where he sat, but didn’t attempt to reach over and slap Gwaine in the face.

Instead, he leaned down and caught Merlin by surprise, taking his lips to his. It only lasted a couple of seconds, but it was enough to make Gwaine gag and turn over to the other side of the bed.

“Oh god, get a room.” He spat playfully as he covered his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

“We have one, but other people seem to be occupying it at the moment.” Arthur replied. He returned to running his hands through Merlin’s hair, and god, he was so content right now. Merlin sighed and closed his eyes, ignoring the meaningless banter between the two men.

When he woke next the sun was streaming through the closed windows, semi-heating up the room and Merlin. He faintly heard the cackling of the fire, thanking whoever finally made it while he was asleep. He no longer heard snoring and smiled at the thought of being alone. And of course, as always, he thought too soon.

“Oh! Merlin, you’re awake.”

Merlin opened his eyes and met Gwen’s. He weakly smiled at her, too tired to even care that she wasn’t Arthur. She smiled back, batting her eyes and running a hand through her hair.

“I thought you’d sleep forever.” She let out, gasping a bit. She flustered as she stood up from her chair to grab a glass of water. She held it to his lips and he drank it all too fast. She pulled it away from him as he started choking on it.

“What time is it?” He asked as he attempted to sit up in bed. Gwen helped him by taking his arm. Once settled, she sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. She bit her lip in concentration.

“Well, it was just sunrise when I woke, and it’s been about an hour since the men left for the meeting-“.

“The what?” Merlin yelled. He threw the covers off of him and jumped out of bed, nearly falling on Gwen if he hadn’t regained his balance in time. Gwen stood abruptly and tried to grab his arm as he dashed across the room to his wardrobe, missing it terribly and nearly falling herself.

“You really shouldn’t be out of bed!” Gwen tried reasoning. “You just woke from a two day sleep. You could fall down the stairs!”

“I ‘on’t ‘are.” Merlin said through a mouthful of clothing. He held his pants in one hand and boots in the other. His mouth was occupied by his shirt as he tried to grab his seal from the top shelf.

“Arthur will make you go back.” She tried again, hoping he would listen. He didn’t.

“Arthur can tell me to do a lot of stuff. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to do them.” He replied as he threw the items on the bed and began pulling his pants on. He realized then that he had been in just his underwear, and blushed a bit at Gwen’s presence. Of course, she had seen worse. What with her walking in while him and Arthur were-

“Oh, please Merlin. He’ll blame me and have one of his stern talks and he won’t trust me-“

“Guinevere.” Merlin said, stepping in front of her and placing a finger on her lips. She shut her mouth and widened her eyes. “I know you’re worried, for both of our sakes.  But heaven’s above, please leave it alone. I’m going whether you like it or not.”

She nodded her head fast and backed away, sighing as she did. Merlin returned to dressing himself, a task Arthur had insisted on giving to a servant, which Merlin had refused years ago. Gwen watched as he struggled to put the shirt on over his twitching head.

“Oh for god’s—“

“Here, let me help.” She stepped up and easily slid his head through the hole of the shirt. He smiled a thank you and sat on the bed to pull his boots on. She walked over to his wardrobe and began rummaging through it.

“What’re you doing?” He asked as he pulled the last one on.

“Your cloak.” She answered, and pulled it out in a great whip. She tossed it to him and he caught it. “It’s freezing outside.”

“Outside?” Merlin questioned, looking at the piece of fabric in his hands as if it were new to him. “Isn’t the meeting in the grand hall?”

Gwen shook her head and crossed her arms. “No, Arthur knew you’d go there, so he’s having it in Paul’s personal tent. You know, the one from the Matterson kingdom. He’s set up a huge table and everything.”

Merlin smirked at Arthur’s attempt in trying to fool him. “He really does go a long way to prevent me from coming.” He threw the cloak around his back and connected it with his sigil, which had originally been on his shirt. “He’s in for a big surprise.”

Gwen frowned. “But you have to promise me you won’t tell him.”

“Promise.” He said as he stood up and turned to look in the mirror. “How do I look?”

“A bit messy.” She said, stepping forward to pat down his hair. “Like you just got out of bed. And a bit pale.” She looked up at him with big eyes. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“Positive, and thanks, Guinevere.” He joked. “I appreciate the criticism.”

She smiled as he turned to leave the room. He stumbled halfway to the door, but thankfully a chair was waiting right beside him for him to take hold of. Of course, Gwen was beside him in an instant.

“Are you-“

“Yes, I’m sure.” He groaned as he straightened his back and looked down at her. “I’ll be fine.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

“I could go with you, if you want.” She said, still holding his arm, preventing him from leaving.

Merlin laughed. “And then Arthur would throw a fit; Lancelot as well. They’d march you right back to the castle.” When she frowned he added, “It’s best if I just go and take the hit. If they knew you were out in that cold-“

“They’d lock me in my chambers until summer.” Gwen finished. “I know, I know. I just worry about you, that’s all.”

“I’ll see you later, alright?” He squeezed her arm before leaving the room.

“Yeah well, I suppose I’ll just find the children.” Gwen sighed, talking to herself as she made her way to the door also. “As always.”

~~~*~~~

                Merlin paused in front of the tent flap to adjust his cloak. He shook his hands and rubbed them together, preparing for the scorn he would receive when he entered. He looked behind him at the castle, towering over him like a giant. How did he ever get to be a king?

                With an intake of breath he stepped into the tent, and all noise that had been coming from inside ceased. Merlin didn’t look at the head of the table, trying to avoid the gaze of his ruthless husband. He scanned the crowd, who all stared back at him with shock. Apparently they weren’t expecting him.

                “Hello.” He said, raising a hand in greeting. He finally met Arthur’s eyes, and if he hadn’t been sick the previous night, he swears Arthur would’ve gotten up right then to throw him outside into the cold. He waited though, just in case he might. When he didn’t, he awkwardly walked around the table, where an empty seat was waiting beside Arthur.

                “Why are you here, Merlin?” Arthur whispered harshly as Merlin scooted his seat towards the table.

                “I wasn’t going to sit this one out, Arthur.” Merlin returned just as harshly. “It’s a matter of war.”

                Arthur huffed and leaned away from him to return to the discussion they had been having before. All eyes left Merlin and focused on Arthur. Merlin leaned forward intently.

~~~*~~~

                “It’s an honor meeting you, King Merlin, a true honor,” one of the other kings, Robert maybe, said as he shook his hand. “I’ve heard many things, many things I tell you! A man of wonders I hear, man of wonders!” His fat cheeks shook as he talked; sweat poured down his brow despite the winter chill. His chin hair glistened oddly.

                “Yeah, well-“ Merlin started, but Arthur interrupted as he stepped up beside him.

                “He’s a fantastic warlock,” he said, taking Robert’s hand in his own; taking the attention away, “and a great king. But let me tell you something: have you met Sir Benley over here? He’s a great cook. A man-“

                Arthur led Robert away from Merlin without even glancing back. He left him standing in the corner of the tent, alone. He’d been doing that the entire time, ever since the meeting was over. Of course, he was probably trying to protect him from rude comments about his tick. Three different men had already said something about it; not out of rudeness, no, but curiosity. Arthur feared the worst though, as always.

                “Merlin, is it?”

                A tall, slender man came waltzing up to the warlock, hand already extended and a plastered smile on his face. His clothes were rich in color, much more than any king he’d seen before. Rings were placed on every finger, making it impossible to know if he was married.

Merlin nodded his head as he took the man’s firm grasp. So much for Arthur’s poor attempts.

                “I’m Henley, of the Robertson kingdom, as I’m sure you already know.”

                In fact, Merlin hadn’t known. But he wasn’t about to voice that.

                “Of course, of course.” Merlin said, nodding his head with enthusiasm. “I’ve heard many things about you from Arthur.”

                “I hope they’re good things.” Henley bellowed, then laughed sharply, causing his pointy, white teeth to show through his lips. His blood-red cape was draped around his back, far longer than most would wear; enough to cover a few men, actually.

                “Oh yes, many good things.” Merlin laughed with him. “Each one greater than the next, I can assure you.”

                This made the taller man smile with glee, eyebrows raising in joy. His slinky body straightened from the strain.

                “Ah, I see you’ve gotten a bit of a tick there.” His face became serious now, just a hint of a smile left on his lips. Merlin’s smile slipped away all together, taken aback by the comment.

                “Must be annoying, yes?”

                “Er. . .yeah.” Merlin said as he scratched the back of his neck. The sudden change of topics bothered him, as if this man had intended on discussing this to begin with. Henley lowered his head slightly to look Merlin in the eyes, examining him.

                “Yeah, I’ve seen a few men with that. Usually had a bad experience as a story behind it.” He continued, ignoring the almost horrified look of the other. He twitched his nose. “How about you; any bad experiences?”

                Merlin shook his head and looked down to the floor. _Arthur, where are you?_

                “Ah, now that I see a lie in your eyes.” Henley said, and Merlin could’ve sworn there was a hiss in his words.  “Many of my men had witnessed babies being burned, others been tortured day after day, losing their sanity with each passing hour. And then of course, you have some who’d been raped-“

                “Thank you, Sir Henley.” Merlin coughed, nearly doubled over, holding his stomach tightly. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope you enjoy your stay in our home.” He rushed the last few words, and out of respect, bowed his head slightly before stepping past him. He made his way to the tent flap, passing Arthur as he exited.

                Once outside, and after making sure no king was out there with him, he took off running towards the stone walls of Camelot. He was planning on trying to make it back to his rooms, but as he passed several women gasping as he ran past, he made a sharp turn down an alley. When he was sure no eyes were laid upon him he let himself fall to his knees, shaking and dry heaving against the hard ground.

                _Damnitdamnit **DAMNIT,**_ what was wrong with him? He slammed his fists against the stone, hissing at the pain that shot through them at contact. He cradled them to his stomach as he continued to throw up nothing.

                Why did he have to say that? Why? Why did it bother him? None of those things had happened to him. He would remember. He would-

                But-

                …had he?

                He remembers hands tugging on him, voices yelling at him, insulting him and cursing at him. They were ripping his clothes and pulling down his-

                Merlin cried out, eyes closing shut in fear. He was back in the forest, they were with him. They were hurting him. They started to-

                “Mister, are you alright?”

                Merlin’s head shot around. He knew he must’ve looked bad, for the young boy standing there gasped and took a step back. He only looked five, maybe six.

                Merlin decided to ignore him and turned back around. He took several gasping breaths, trying to regain control over his body. His ticks were going crazy.

                “Momma!” The boy yelled, and Merlin cursed. “Momma!”

                “Shhh.” Merlin hissed, turning back around to scorn the young boy. He backed up again, eyes wide and shaking. He didn’t want anyone finding him here. They couldn’t see him like this. He was ashamed, mortified. He had been raped. They were raping him-

                “Merlin!” A woman came around the corner, familiar in a way, but a stranger more than anything. She hiked her skirts up past her ankles as she ran through the puddles of water towards Merlin.

                “For god’s sake—what’re you doing?” She bent down to his eye-level and searched with her hands for injuries. He must’ve looked dazed, for she snapped her fingers in his face. Why was she touching him? He was a king.

                “Stop it.” He mumbled, pushing her hands away. He tried standing but fell back to the ground with a groan. The woman covered her mouth with her hand and gasped.

                “You’re drunk.” She breathed, astonishment clear in her voice. “Merlin, I didn’t know you-“

                “Get away from me.” Merlin mumbled, eyes searching for an escape route. He was at a dead end, the only way to leave was the way he entered. And of course, the boy was standing right in the middle of his path. On any given day he could’ve taken on an entire army, but right now? He could barely lift himself off the ground.

                “Merlin, stop this right now.” The woman scorned. Her eyebrows were drawn together, her eyes were no joking matter either. “You get up right now. I’m taking you to Gaius. A good bit of something he’s got should get you focused.” She reached out a hand.

                _Hands grabbing, hurt, pain, threatthreatthreat._

                She attempted to take him by the arm, and without even thinking, and not taking note of the young boy to his right, Merlin lifted his hand and closed his eyes. He muttered a spell and sent her flying across the alleyway. He heard a bone-crunching snap as she hit the wall and slid down it, landing in a crumpled heap on the ground.

                “Momma!” The boy screamed, running towards her in his bare feet. Merlin watched as he shook her still body.

~~~*~~~

“Here, here! They’re over here!”

“Is that Merlin?”

“It’s the king! Why is he here?”

“Get Arthur! Someone get Arthur!”

“Did he…?”

“It’s Sarah!”

“Get Gwaine! Find Gwaine; tell him what’s happened!”

“No one touch him, he might do it again.”

Merlin sat with his back against the wall, panting and crying. The voices were so loud, making his head pound over and over. His ears were ringing and his arms were shaking as they covered his head. He needed Arthur. He needed Arthur.

Several feet ran by him to where the woman lay, kicking up water and splashing it on him. He didn’t want them near him; he didn’t want anybody near him. What if they hurt him? What if they touched him? Merlin continued to cry and shake as the rain started to fall.

_Hands grabbing him._

_People yelling._

_Screaming._

_He was screaming._

~~~*~~~

                “What’s going on?” Arthur nearly yelled over the crowd. He was trying to find Merlin. He had ran past him without any explanation, without telling him where he was going. Arthur had dismissed himself quietly without letting the other kings know. A crowd gathered around an alleyway had caught his attention, and now everyone there looked back at him.

                “Arthur! Arthur!” A woman yelled as she ran up to him. “It’s Merlin; he’s killed a woman!”

                His heart stopped.

All of the color in his face drained as the woman took hold of his arm before he fell over. Several knights who had heard the commotion had heard the woman too, and now took her by the arm, thrusting her away from their king. They threw words at her like “liar” and “scum” as they dragged her away from the scene. Arthur ignored her pleas.

                He pushed through the crowd, making no attempt to apologize for shoving past women and children. Several of the men were trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t hear them. They were nothing to him right now; his focus was Merlin.

                “Keep away from him! He might attack again!” A man was holding up his arms in a “no passage” sign. Several people gasped at the thought of what he said, but Arthur growled. He made his way to the man, and without thinking, took him by the collar and brought him face to face with one angry king.

                “What’re you talking about?” Arthur asked in a murderous tone. Everyone around him backed away in fear. Several knights were holding others away from them.

                “It’s---it’s Merlin your sire. He—he—he. . .”

                “Where is he?” Rain ran down his face, matting down his hair and making him shake. Thunder sounded over them, lightening lit up the sky. The man in his grasp gulped as he pointed a shaky finger to his left. Arthur dropped the man in a heap on the ground.

                Arthur barely recognized the crumpled man only a yard from him, shivering in the rain and crying out in agony. It reminded him, though, of two days ago. And if this was anything like that. . .

                “Merlin!” Arthur yelled over the chatter of the crowd. He had his hands on Merlin’s cheeks in seconds and was shaking his head, bringing him out of his dreary state. Merlin didn’t say anything as he made eye contact with Arthur, weak and fragile as it seemed. He continued to cry as Arthur brought his head to his shoulder, rubbing circles into his back and trying to shush the weeping man.

                “It’s okay Merlin. It’s okay.” Arthur whispered into his ear. “You’re alright. Come on, let’s go.” They had to get out of there before someone hurt Merlin. Arthur knew his people loved their rulers, but if Merlin had killed someone, no one could stop them from getting their hands on him. No one except Arthur.

He helped Merlin stand on his feet, supporting more than half of his weight as they tried to make their way out of the alleyway, escorted by knights, including what looked like Percival. He was in front of them, pushing people and punching a few men. Some of them were shouting now; threats and insults, all pointed towards Merlin. _Traitor, sorcerer, murderer!_ Merlin clung to Arthur’s shirt for dear life, his head buried in his chest.

Arthur glanced back at the scene behind him as they neared the edge of the crowd. Two men were carrying a plank of wood with something on top of it, covered by a blanket. As they nearly tipped it over, but regained their balance instantly, a single arm fell from under the covers, a silver band laden on one of the fingers.

~~~*~~~

                As Arthur neared the stairs to the castle, Merlin still clinging to him and knights surrounding them in a circle, he saw Gwaine and a peasant man running down them. The man was talking hurriedly to the knight, who was trying desperately to not trip down the stairs. Arthur paused at the bottom, and when Gwaine saw him, half-holding Merlin, he stopped too.

                “Sir Gwaine, please.” The man pulled on his arm. Gwaine shook him off. He was staring at Merlin, eyes wide in disbelief. Arthur clutched his husband closer to his chest.

                Merlin lifted his head from Arthur, wondering why they had stopped. Percival was standing in front of him, his back to him, sword drawn, as well as every other knight that was around him. He spotted Gwaine, who was staring at him, eyes digging into him. Why did he look so angry?

                “Gwaine!”

                A voice behind them called out. Arthur whipped his head around and cursed. The crowd of people was moving towards them; the plank the men had been carrying was being laid gently onto the ground. Gwaine was running.

                “Come on.” Percival hissed. Arthur scooped Merlin from his feet and cradled him to his chest. They were running now too, towards the walls of the castle. The doors slammed behind them as they skidded to a halt inside, drowning out the sounds of wailing and cursing.

~~~*~~~

                They ran through the castle without stopping. Arthur was determined to get Merlin to safety, away from the angry villagers waiting outside. Some of the knights had stayed behind to stand guard by the front doors, the rest of them ran alongside him, directing him through the passageways.

                He could barely see in front of him as he followed the other men. Every curse and swear they had thrown at Merlin was running through his mind; what would happen to Merlin, what they would do to him. Would they try to break into the castle? Were they that angry? Or would they demand a hanging? Merlin murdered someone; it was a felony worthy of death.

                No. Arthur wouldn’t let that happen. They wouldn’t lay a hand on him. But what would they do then? Would they have to run away? Were they doomed to banishment outside of the kingdom? What about the war? All of these people would die without a leader. Everyone would die.

                “Sire.” Percival stopped the king in his tracks. He was holding out his arms, offering to take Merlin from him.

                “No, I’ve got him.” Arthur said, shaking his head. They were standing outside Gaius’ chambers and two knights were on either side of the door.

                “Arthur, you need to get Sarya.” Percival said, pleading with the king. “I’ll take him inside; you bring her back here.”

                Arthur, at the mention of his daughter, regretfully gave the knight his husband.

                “I’ll keep him safe.” He promised, clutching the dazed man to his chest. Merlin stared at Arthur longingly, confused as to what was going on. Arthur smoothed back his hair once before nodding his head and taking off down the hallway.

                Sarya was thankfully still in her chambers, as that was the first place Arthur decided to look for her. She was on the floor with Lancelot’s and Gwen’s two girls, Macy and Lila. Beatrice was in a chair asleep in the corner.

                “Sarya, honey.” Arthur said, announcing himself into the room. The little girl bounced up from her sitting position and ran into Arthur’s arms. He scooped her up and held her to his chest. “Baby, we have to go now, alright?”

                “But I’m not done playing.” Sarya whined, now trying to wiggle her way out of Arthur’s grasp. He clung to her tighter.

                “Sarya-“

                “Arthur!” Gwen came running into the room, hair down from its usual bun, panting and out of breath. Lancelot came right behind her.

                “We heard.” Lancelot said, grabbing Gwen’s shoulders and squeezing them. He glanced at his two girls on the floor and waved them over to him. “Some of the villagers are trying to break down the doors. Our men are trying to hold them back.”

                “Some?” Arthur asked, watching as Macy crawled over to Gwen’s feet and she bent down and picked her up. Lila stood by Lancelot, holding his hand.

                “Only a few, sire. Some crazy man took the lead and convinced some others to go against you and Merlin.” Lancelot explained. “The others though, they’re not involved. They’re going to their homes, locking their doors. Arthur, they’re afraid those men are going to kill anyone who stands in their way of getting to Merlin.”

                “We shouldn’t talk about this in front of them.” Gwen hushed, eyeing the three children. Sarya was staring wide-eyed at Lancelot, hand half way through Arthur’s hair.

                “No one’s going to hurt him. I promise.” He said, then motioned for Lancelot to exit the room. They all made their way to Gaius’ rooms, jumping around each corner at the sound of mice scuttling across the floor.

~~~*~~~

                “What do we do?” Elyan yelled over the roar of voices behind the closed doors. He was pushing against one of them in an effort to keep the villagers out. Leon was beside him, face scrunched up as he put all of his strength into doing the same thing.

                “Hold them off; that’s all we can do.” He huffed. “We can’t kill them. They have a right to be angry. It would be against our law.”

                Elyan glanced behind him at the words Leon spoke. Several knights were put on duty of watching Gwaine, who was tucked away into a corner with his deceased wife and son. He was holding her in his lap, crying and rocking back and forth, Peter standing beside him bawling his eyes out. No one touched the knight though; they knew he wouldn’t try anything.

                “And him?” Elyan asked. Leon looked over at the other knight too, eyes blinking with tears. He was confused and bewildered. Everything was happening to fast. None of it made sense.

                “We let Arthur handle it.” He said, putting more effort into pushing the door. Bangs of hands against wood were coming from the outside. They rattled the doors and the knights holding them.

                Elyan nodded his head in agreement.

                “Are you scared too?”

                The question surprised Leon. He looked over at Elyan with a subtle face.

                “Yes.” He answered, then looked away. “The king’s murdered a knight’s wife, sir Elyan. We should all be scared.”


End file.
